Hard
by Falesification223
Summary: She worked hard. He drank harder. -Shail Andy's problems increase and Sam is there for her.
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys! I know it's been a while since I've been around, but I thought of this idea and had to write it. Its just something short and sad. Hope you enjoy.

Inspiration came from a sad six word story I found online.

Sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar errors.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue or the short story referenced below.

* * *

She worked hard. He drank harder. – Shail

* * *

She gets the feeling that something is off when she's called into Best's office one morning while her and Oliver are back at the station after bringing in a perp. The look on Frank's face when he calls her name across the bullpen implies that whatever he has to tell her, it isn't good.

She passes Peck sitting at her desk on her way, who follows her movements with narrowed eyes. "What'd you do this time?" she says quietly with a wicked smirk. Andy shoots her a quick glare and makes her way to Frank's office. She knocks quietly and he motions for her to come in.

"McNally, please, sit down."

She walks to the middle of the room, hesitant to sit down for some reason. "Is something wrong, Sir?" Her eyebrows knit together with concern.

Frank hesitates before suggesting again, "I think you should sit down."

"I'm fine," she insists. "Just please tell me what's going on."

He takes a second and assesses her stance and the nervous way she's fidgeting with her hands. "McNally, it's your father."

Tears automatically spring to her eyes but she bites them back. She knew this wasn't going to be good, she just knew. "What about him?"

She's not a very religious person, but in the moments it takes Frank to answer she prays to God above that it isn't what she thinks it is. That he hasn't finally done himself in with drinking for good.

"He was in a car accident early this morning."

Her eyes have betrayed her and tears start gliding their way down her face. "And?"

Frank shakes his head minutely before answering. "I'm sorry, Andy. He didn't make it."

She feels like she's been hit with a big bag of flour right in the gut when she leans over and braces her hands on her knees, gasping for air as she tries to keep from sobbing in front of her boss. _Keep it together._

* * *

Out in the bullpen, Oliver looks around for Andy, doughnut in hand. He walks up to Peck who doesn't look up at him as he approaches. "You seen McNally around here?"

Her gaze flicks up from her paperwork and points her pen in the direction of Best's office. "She's in there."

Oliver looks up in time to see Andy double over and brace herself on her knees. His eyebrows knit together when he glances back at Gail. "Any idea as to why?" He says around a mouthful of doughnut.

Head still buried in her paperwork she answers in a slightly irritated tone. "No, why?"

Oliver doesn't answer; he just keeps staring at the scene playing out in Best's office. Gail notices his silence and looks first at Oliver and then follows his gaze to Frank's office.

Oliver looks at Peck before muttering, "I'll be right back."

Gail nods as though she's not really listening to him and continues to watch from her desk as Oliver heads back to booking where Sam is stationed for the day.

* * *

Frank gets up and she doesn't register his movements until she feels his hand on her back.

"Andy, you need to sit down."

She sits without argument and looks at Frank through teary eyes.

"What happened?" She chokes out.

"Officers found his car wrapped around a pole out near the beach around five this morning. He was gone when they got there. They took him to the hospital and tried to bring him back, Andy, but it didn't work. He had been there for an hour or two before they found him."

She nods ever so slightly before releasing a shuttering breath, tears running freely down her face. "Had he, um… Had he been…" Her eyes dart around the room before meeting Frank's.

He nods sadly. "There's evidence to suggest that he had been under the influence of alcohol but we won't know anything for sure until the toxicology reports are in."

Andy breaks their gaze and buries her head in her hands while trying to keep herself somewhat composed until she can reach a more private place to break down.

"You'll be given today and the rest of the week off to get plans and arrangements organized and then we'll talk about when you want to come back."

She quickly looks up, but he raises his hand to cut her off. "No arguments on this McNally. Now go home and get some rest. Swarek should be around here somewhere to give you a ride home."

Andy stands on shaky legs and just reaches the door when Frank speaks again. "And Andy?" She turns around to look at him. "I'm sorry about your loss," he says with sincerity.

She nods sadly, not quite meeting his eyes. "Thank you, Sir."

* * *

She exits Frank's office and all but runs to the locker room to get changed, ignoring all of the questioning glances she's sent along the way. She wants, no, _needs_ to get out of there. Andy sits on the bench in front of her locker feeling like she can't breathe as she takes in gasp after gasp of air.

Well, the day is finally here. Her father finally did it. The thing that cuts her the deepest is the disappointment. He had been doing so well. She had been proud of him for the first time in fifteen years since her mother left them. She had gotten used to not carrying around the burden of cleaning up his messes and making excuses for him every time he got himself into trouble. She was happier, and she thought he had been happier, too.

She quickly changes into her civvies and gathers her things, planning to just walk home. She avoids everyone's questioning stares as she hurriedly exits the station, not hearing Sam calling her name as he tries to catch up with her.

As soon as her feet hit the pavement of the parking lot, she breaks into a dead sprint.

* * *

Later that evening when Sam gets out of work, he heads to Andy's apartment. He knocks first but when she doesn't answer he uses the key she gave him for emergencies. Sam enters slowly, taking in her jacket, shoes, and work bag skewed around the little foyer suggesting that she had just dumped everything when she had gotten home.

He makes his way through the rest of her apartment, finally finding her curled up in bed. Her back is to him, but he can tell she's awake by her erratic breathing and the way her body shakes and sobs wrack though it.

"Andy?" He questions quietly.

She doesn't acknowledge his presence or answer his question. Sam walks over to her bed and crawls in behind her.

Sam wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her back against him, trying to comfort her as she cries. He speaks in almost a whisper. "Wanna talk about it?"

When that doesn't do anything, he tries again a few minutes later. "I tried to be here sooner but Frank needed me to stay in booking. I swear, the full moon really brings out all the crazies."

For the first time she acknowledges his presence and turns in his grasp. She tangles her legs with his and buries her head in his chest as the sobs intensify. Her arms slide around his waist and she pulls him impossibly closer, hugging him tighter than he had ever been hugged. Sam kisses her temple and tucks her head under his chin and rubs his hands up and down her back.

"Andy, I'm so, so sorry," he mumbles.

She continues to cry for a period of time until she quiets down and her breathing becomes even. So quiet that he wonders if she fell asleep.

When she speaks, her quiet voice is rough from crying. "Everything leads back to her, Sam. He was doing fine until last week. Even when we saw him for dinner a couple nights ago he seemed fine. God, I don't know how I didn't see it…" He can feel her heavy, hot breath against his chest.

Last week. She's referring to seeing her mother at a crime scene, ironically working as a social worker. That stung her down to her core.

Sam had been hovering over her like an overprotective maniac ever since and had just started to back off at the beginning of the week. At first his hovering was sweet and comforting, but after the third day she got sick of it. They fought, which resulted in harsh words, doors being slammed, and them spending the night apart. In the morning, he pulled her into interview one and they both apologized and made up. Made up a little bit too well; they were late for parade.

He nods and pulls back to look at her face. Sam looks deep into her eyes and sees such vulnerability, such hurt and pain that it makes him a little shaky as well.

Andy takes this as encouragement to continue. "And you want to know the worst part?" She asks, her lip quivering. "When Best told me I actually felt a little relieved, Sam. Because I won't have to be constantly worrying about if something will set him off, make him fall off the wagon. I won't ever have to break into his house on my lunch break and find him out cold on sleeping pills and booze."

She pauses, takes a shuddering breath and meets his eyes. "I mean, who does that Sam? What awful person…"

Sam takes her face in his hands and cuts her off. "Hey, look at me. Thinking that doesn't make you a bad person, Andy."

She scoffs and looks around the room but he tightens his grip and makes her meet his serious eyes again. "I mean it, Andy. And beating yourself up about this isn't going to help the situation."

She sighs and starts to break down again. He wipes her tears away with the pads of his thumbs and kisses her forehead.

"What's going to happen to us, Sam?" She asks quietly though the tears.

He leans back to look at her, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Sam. What if we don't make it? What if I end up like her, and I leave?" Her words get louder and more rushed as she speaks. "And how much more can you take? Haven't we put this relationship through enough in the few months we've been together? I mean, how're we going to make it if all this bad shit just keeps…"

She's cut off when Sam puts his mouth over hers with a soft kiss. The kiss holds reassurance and promise. She loses herself in it for a moment. It's like he has the power to clear her mind and calm her down with just a simple kiss.

When he breaks the kiss he holds her gaze and speaks softly. "Andy, I'm not gonna walk away. Yes, a lot of stuff has happened and it's hard to keep going but I'm not anywhere close to throwing in the towel. This relationship is worth it. Okay?"

She hesitates but eventually nods, her teary eyes never leaving his. He leans in again, just a hair away from her lips when he says "_you're_ worth it, Andy."

* * *

**A/N:** That's it! Hope you liked it and thanks for reading. I was planning on this being a oneshot, but if there's popular demand I can make it into a twoshot. Thanks again!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys. I decided to make this a twoshot after popular demand. I hope that you're pleased with it. Sorry in advance for any typos/grammar errors and don't forget to review! They really do mean a lot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue or the short six word story below.

* * *

'Fine.' A lie defining her life.

-Lyndsey Yingst

* * *

The funeral is four days later. A large amount of the attendance is officers, both current and retired who once worked alongside Tommy.

Ever since the night where Andy was informed of his death, she hasn't cried once. She woke up the next morning completely detached from the situation, handling the funeral plans with a cold, hard demeanor. Sam knew she was trying to be strong for him and for those around her, but he saw right through it.

He had tried to bring it up in the days before the funeral, but she brushed him off and told him she was 'fine' and changed the subject. He wanted her to talk and to let him inside her head so he could help her but she wouldn't. Although he grew more frustrated with each passing day, he knew that if he pushed her to talk it would just make her shut down even more.

Another aspect of their relationship had changed, too. Since Tommy's passing, she's been incredibly rough during sex. The first couple times Sam tried to get her to slow down, to take her time. All that did was piss her off and make her all the more rough. Her kisses were hard and her movements were hungry and rushed. It was like she was scared he was going somewhere, like that would be the last time they'd ever have the chance to experience each other's bodies.

It's not like he didn't enjoy all of the sex, either. He just thought there were other, healthier ways of grieving. He knew better than to bring that up, too. If sex was the one place she would express herself and let some emotion out, then he would have to let her.

The moment when she finally starts to break catches Sam by surprise. Sam stands next to her in his uniform, trying not to be too obvious as he keeps looking at her face throughout the ceremony. Their coworkers, all in uniform, friends and what little extended family Tommy had stand around Tommy's casket as its lowered into the ground, last goodbyes and testaments to what a good cop, father, and man Tommy was already having been said.

When it's time, Andy steps forward and bends down to pick up a handful of dirt to throw on the casket. She keeps her head down and her back towards the audience as she stretches her hand straight out in front of her and slowly releases the dirt out of her hand, letting it cascade down upon the casket. When all the dirt is gone, she turns around and looks at the crowd of people, her eyes filled with tears.

She's about ready to take the steps back to Sam's side when she catches sight of something in her peripherals. She lets her gaze take her to a large, shady maple tree a ways back from where they are gathered. She makes eye contact with the person standing by the tree, a person she hadn't seen for fifteen years up until last week. Sam's brow furrows until he follows her gaze to the woman standing back by the tree.

Andy's feet start moving on their own accord toward the tree, not hearing Traci softly calling her name. She walks around the crowd, ignoring all of the questioning looks being sent her way as people turn to watch her movements.

By the time she reaches the tree, tears are flowing freely down her cheeks. Andy comes to a stop in front of her mother and looks her in the eyes.

"I hope you're happy," Andy says brokenly.

Tears appear in her mother's eyes and she reaches out to touch Andy on the shoulder. Andy jerks her body away.

"What are you even doing here?" Andy spits the question with increasing volume, completely oblivious to the staring crowd standing only twenty yards away.

Her mother speaks softly. "Well, I-I thought you might want me here, Andy. He was once my husband, too."

Andy cuts her off with a scoff and rolls her eyes. "You lost the right to be here _fifteen years ago_ when you _left_ us," she all but shouts. "He wouldn't want you here. You're the reason he's dead, you know?"

"A-Andy, please." Her mother weeps.

"No, you need to leave." She points really in no direction in particular, her emotions are running so high, anger and sadness are radiating from her soul.

"Andy."

"No, you need to get out. Leave!" She shouts.

"Andy."

It takes her a second to realize that it's not her mother saying her name. She looks to her left, back towards the crowd, and sees Sam standing six feet from her, a pleading, concerned expression adorning his features. It's that moment when Andy realizes what a scene she's made in front of all the people standing there and she suddenly feels incredibly embarrassed and humiliated.

She closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them she looks back at her weeping mother. Andy shakes her head and bends down to take off her high heels one by one. Sam stands there with his brows knit together, watching the scene play out before him.

Andy shoves the shoes into her mother's grasp and addresses her mother one last time.

"Don't ever try to contact me again."

And with that, Andy turns the opposite direction of the funeral and starts walking.

Sam starts to walk after her. "Andy!" He calls.

She hears him yell but doesn't respond. Instead she does what she does best.

She runs.

* * *

Andy skips the dinner being held in Tommy's honor that afternoon. Instead she goes home, strips off her incredibly uncomfortable dress and panty-hoes – with holes worn in the feet from running – as soon as she enters the door. She heads strait for her bedroom and rummages through her dresser for the only thing she knows will make her feel better.

Her workout clothes.

She hastily slides on a pair of yoga pants, a sports bra and t-shirt. She grabs her running shoes and heads back out the door to the gym.

She takes her anger out on the punching bag. Every punch and kick she delivers figuratively heals the wounds on her heart one by one. Her breathing is heavy and erratic, but she doesn't care. She only cares about her and the punching bag, a silent war going on inside her head.

When her arms can no longer take the constant blows to the punching bag, she starts to run on the treadmill to clear the emotion-induced fog from her mind. Her pace is fast at first as her thoughts race through her mind at a speed she can't control.

Things go so out of hand today; Andy can't help but feel responsible for all of it. She was so rude and just downright _mean_ to her mother. But didn't she deserve it? After all, the woman did desert Tommy and Andy fifteen years ago without any hesitation. What right did she have to be there this afternoon? None. She made her choice when she left them for good and never looked back. Until now.

It wasn't fair, Andy thought. And Sam. Oh, _Sam_.

Andy felt even worse when Sam entered her train of thought, but her pace slowed on the treadmill. _He must be so worried_. The look in his eyes today at the funeral just about killed her. It's as if he knew everything she was feeling in that moment. He was creepily good at reading her emotions and getting inside her head, with or without her consent. It was something she both loved and hated about him.

When Andy's thoughts slowed, she got off the treadmill and headed to the locker room to get her stuff.

* * *

The sun is setting as she rounds the corner onto her street, and she recognizes a familiar vehicle sitting in front of her apartment building. As she turns onto her walkway she sees Sam sitting on her front steps and her feet suddenly stop right in their tracks. He's rubbing his face with his hands as he sighs heavily. When he takes his hands away he looks up and notices Andy standing there.

Her expression is uneasy, like she's unsure if he's going to be mad and start yelling at her at any time. Granted, he is angry with her, but her expression makes that fade away for the time being.

Sam's the first to break the silence.

"Hey." It comes out rough and quiet. He appraises her stance, the way she's biting her lip in anticipation for him to say something else. Sam shifts his gaze to the step beside him and motions for her to take a seat. "We need to talk."

Andy hesitates for a moment before slowly walking forward and taking a seat next to him on the steps, close enough to gently bump shoulders with one another.

"Yeah, we do." She quietly says, almost sighing as she says it.

She can feel his heated gaze on her as she looks down at her fidgeting hands.

"Look, I'm sorry about today. I was just so angry and upset and I really didn't mean to make a scene."

"Well, you did."

"I know." Andy pauses before carefully continuing, still not making eye contact. "Are you mad?"

He sighs before rubbing his chin. "About today? No, not really." She snaps her head to the side to look at him and meets his gaze as soon as she turns. He looks deep into her eyes before continuing. "I am a little mad you didn't tell me what you were going through before the funeral though."

She nods, breaking their stare and looking back down at her hands.

"I'm sorry about that, too."

"Why didn't you tell me, Andy?"

"I just… I didn't want to freak you out. We _just_ started this thing, Sam. It's too early; you shouldn't have to deal with this stuff. These are my problems and my responsibilities, not yours."

"Hey, look at me." He waits until she meets his gaze before continuing. "I meant what I said before, Andy. We're in this thing _together_, and I will be there when it matters. If you want this thing to work, you have to communicate and tell me what you're thinking. I want to help you, I _want_ to be there for you. But I can't be unless you open up and tell me what's going on."

"Okay. Hey, promise me something. If things go south with us, don't," she shakes her head and looks away from his gaze for a second, "don't just walk out the door."

"You won't get rid of me without a fight."

Andy smiles before she leans in towards him.

As the last sliver of sun slips beneath the horizon, their lips meet.


End file.
